Journey to Atmora
by zazonion
Summary: Two expeditions to the continent of Atmora, the original home of the nords. Yes, Atmora is a continent on Nirn, look it up on the usep.


The ship rose and sank with each wave, Ulrich shivered in the cold northern air. He was part of an expedition to Atmora; the ancestral home of the Nords. Scouts from past expeditions have given word that there were some Dwemer ruins on the coast of the continent, this was only a rumor though, and anyone could say they were a scout from Atmora. They were sent map the southern map of the land for High King Ulfric, who want to make Atmora part of Skyrim. Ulrich was part of a team sent by the Bards College to collect any Dwemer artifacts found.

A large Nord, named Rolf, walked up and stood beside him. "The cold up here would freeze even the strongest of Nords," he said, "how does it feel being an Imperial, and being from Elswyr?"

"It feels nothing like the sands and jungles back home," Ulrich smiled. He was a rarity, Ulrich, he was from a country primarily ruled by a beast race; his family were the only human's in his village. Rolf laughed, "I wouldn't be so cold if the mead hadn't ran out." Ulrich grinned with him, it was true, when the mead ran out it had gotten a lot colder. Ulrich looked towards the foggy coast that was Atmora; he saw a spire rising from the fog. Looks like the scouts told it true. He knew they would be anchoring soon.

They anchored as close to land as they could, which was a mile off; Ulrich had gotten in a boat with Rolf. Rolf spoke to the rower in a language Ulrich didn't understand. After a minute the rower turned to Ulrich. "What's an Imperial like you doing up here? Shouldn't you be in your big city being babysat by the Thalmor?" He said mockingly.

"I'm from Elswyr, and I was on your side during the rebellion," retorted Ulrich. The Nord laughed, "I suppose you want me to believe that you're the dragon born too."

"No I don't, I killed him during the sack of Whiterun. Oh, and before you think I'm lying, Alduin would still be here." The Nord was silent the rest of the way. "I didn't think you had it in you," said Rolf, "to make him just up, maybe you are the dovahkiin." Ulrich and Rolf both chucked at that.

"You've known me since the expedition to find Yokuda ten years ago, then we met again five years later, when you talked Ulfric Stormcloak into setting me free and joining the rebellion. I hope you know I've learned how to handle myself," grinned Ulric. "How old were we when we met?" Asked Rolf.

"I was an apprentice then, so around eighteen I believe," Ulrich said, Rolf began to laugh hysterically. "What are you laughing at?" asked Ulrich, he was beginning to laugh himself. "I was sweet on the Breton cabin girl," laughed Rolf, Ulrich began to laugh too. It was another hour before they reached the coast.

On the beach there was a group of Horkers, but other than them there was driftwood, fog, and ice. They pulled up there boat and sat to wait. Ten other boats pulled up with the camp supplies, one had the Capitan and his daughter, who was a mage. "Come with me," was all the Capitan said, the Breton girl looked both Rolf and Ulrich up and down; something was going on. Inside the tent there was a table with an unfinished map on it, Ulrich assumed it was a map of Atmora.

"High King Ulfric has sent us to map Atmora, but the Bard College sent hired you and your team to find any artifacts. The College in Winterhold also wants a part in this, so they sent my daughter, Tavia," said the Capitan. Ulrich nodded. "Martin, I'll protect her as best I can," said Ulrich.

"I hope so," was all Martin said. Ulrich and Rolf nodded and walked out of the tent.

Ulrich woke early the next morning, he couldn't stand the cold, but then again, he couldn't stand the cold in Skyrim ether. He dressed in fur, good for protection and warmth. He unwrapped a piece of cloth; inside it was a Cyrodiil style steel sword, it was his fathers. His father had died when their village was attacked by bandits when he was a child. He sheathed his sword and head of his tent for breakfast.

He, Tavia, Rolf, an Argonian named Na-Xel, and a Kahjiit named Dar'Jo, stood in front of to massive golden doors. They were about ten miles away from camp. Na-Xel looked over to Ulrich and nodded, the Argonian was a mute. "I am ready my old friend," said the Kahjiit, he and Ulrich came from the same village, the twitching of his tail said that he was nervous. Rolf and Tavia both said they were ready. Ulrich drew his sword and started a fire in his hand. The great doors made a screeching noise when they were opened, they stepped inside.

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